


Aftermath

by jenish (phizzle)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Community: atomic_fiction, Grief, M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/jenish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Beta by decor_noctis. My lyrics were "Can you see the beauty inside of me?/What happened to the beauty I had inside of me?"</p>
    </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by decor_noctis. My lyrics were "Can you see the beauty inside of me?/What happened to the beauty I had inside of me?"

_Hair, teeth, breath. Draco would bite into his neck, and Harry would whimper, the noise mixing with growls, low in the throat; exhales, high in the nose; never silent, never still. Harry would curl around him, try to remember a time when he was still. Couldn't. They moved, always moved, never ending, never wanting it to end._

_Not wanting to find out what happened when they stopped._

~*~

Harry paced whenever the cramp in his legs got too bad. It was most of his movement, up and down, never very far from his bed. He stared at the walls, idly turning over the disconnected thought that Hermione wanted him to hang the pictures up again. He hadn't told her yet that he wasn't going to; that he just didn't want the company.

The doorbell rang, loud buzz intruding mid-pace. Geared for inertia, Harry sat on the bed and waited. He didn't want to see anyone. Not even Ron. Not today. Soft knock at the door, Remus's head appeared.

"Someone to see you, Harry." Voice soft, manner soft, but surprised.

"Can they come back tomorrow?" he asked, listless.

"I think he'd be dead by tomorrow," Remus answered. Harry looked at him, paused.

"Okay." He stood, watched as Remus opened the door, stood aside. Harry's eyebrows rose a fraction. "Malfoy," he said. Remus closed the door quietly behind him; Harry heard him go into the kitchen.

"Potter." Draco inclined his head. Stiffly. "Well. This is cosy." He noted the bare walls, the unmade bed; his lip curled. "Gone Muggle, have you? But you should be used to it, given your background –"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry gritted his teeth. "What did you come here for? Was it just to insult my furnishings, or did you have a point?"

Draco looked startled for a moment, as if he wasn't sure, or perhaps had forgotten. "I was … found." He smoothed down his hair, a nervous gesture Harry hadn't seen on him before. He noticed a line, puckered skin.

"Your hand," he said, automatically reaching for it. Draco hesitated, then offered it. Harry looked at the scar.

"You know they'll kill me," Draco said, effort almost succeeding in making his tone light.

"We'll hide you somewhere else. Somewhere safer."

"Like they've hidden you?" Draco glanced around the room again. "No thanks, Potter."

"This is only temporary." The fight had gone out of his voice.

"I expect that halfwit, Arthur Weasley, will want to adopt you."

"Don't." Quiet. "He saved your life."

"And I saved his dear son, your Weasel King. I owe him nothing."

"You owe him respect." Harry's throat was hurting. This was the most he had spoken in months. He stared at Draco, willing to stare him down, suddenly wanting to spring at him, fight him, knock him to the ground and kiss him, _anything_ but this treading-water existence. For a long moment, Draco said nothing.

"I miss my parents," he said at last, barely a whisper.

"At least you knew them." They were locked in it now.

"At least you don't have memories of them," Draco countered. "You had less to lose."

Harry's eyes burned. "At least you got to grow up with them."

"At least you got revenge for their deaths!" Draco was shouting now. "You did it, Potter." He threw his hands in the air, body coiled as he turned back and forth. "You killed the man who murdered your parents. But I have to be _civil_ to the people who killed mine! I have to be _kept_ and _hidden_ by them, and my father's friends are going to kill me because _I didn't die any sooner_." He stopped, chest heaving, fists clenched tight.

"I didn't kill your parents," Harry said, quietly.

Draco surged towards him, nose almost pressed to his. Harry's pulse raced. "I know. Saintly Hero Potter, aren't you? You only kill out of revenge."

"I'm not a killer." Harry's voice was even, but his throat went dry.

"The Dark Lord, Potter. Snape. All those Death Eaters."

"Stop it, stop it, _stop it_." Harry stepped away, ran a shaking hand through his hair.

"Doesn't feel good, does it?" Draco blinked, deflated. "I killed one of them. When they found me, I – didn't even use the Killing Curse. Just Stupefy, and he went down, hit his head, and the … the sound." He swallowed, looked through the bare wall. "I got away, they were … one of the curses hit my hand, the pain … I came here after St Mungo's. I … they're going to find me, Harry."

Harry looked at him. "I know. We'll find them first." He strode to the door, movements sure, spoke in low murmurs with Remus. Draco waited.

Remus smiled wearily at Draco as Harry came back. "There'll be a room for you here. Should only be for a few days. I'll be back soon, Harry."

"Tell Kingsley I'm ready," Harry replied. Remus shook his head.

"You know what he'll say. I've got to go." Draco watched as he Disapparated, leaving him alone with Harry.

"I take it you're babysitting me," he sneered, sitting on the bed.

Harry looked at him. "Admit it," he said. Draco's head snapped up sharply. "You're relieved."

Muscles relaxed in his back. "Alright, I'm relieved I might not die. Happy now?"

Harry leaned against the wall. He felt animated. "Nice to know you have faith in us."

"Yes, well. You won, didn't you?"

The shadow was back. "Define 'win', Malfoy."

"You're still alive." The grey eyes were hard, boring into him.

A moment stretched. "Yes," Harry said at last. "I'm still alive."


End file.
